Sorry Guys

A few years ago, I bought a t-shirt that read, "My kid is a genius." I wore it to a function at our preschool just to see everyone's reactions in our hyper-competitive town.

Around the same time, my girlfriend was dating a guy who went to Vegas and purchased for her a t-shirt in the hotel gift shop that was black and bejeweled with the acronym MILF. Funny (not to mention thoughtful and flattering) but not really wearable unless you're somewhat egomaniacal.

Today, Son #1 came up with his own concept and called me at work. "I just told dad that I wanted to get you a t-shirt that says, 'Sorry guys. I'm married.'"

What a cutie, right? And it's funny! I think there's a market for that shirt.

I Love Annie

Son #1 and I went to a retro 50's diner for a cheeseburger the other night. (One word review: Yuck.)

We were just hanging out, waiting for our food when his eyes opened as wide as saucers. "Was Grannie an actress when she was younger?"

I turned to look at the TV screen behind me where "The Lucy Show" was showing. "No, that's Lucille Ball. She's a famous comedian."

"She looks exactly like Grannie!"

He then proceeded to point out every expression. "Did you see that one?!"

I had never noticed the similarities before but he was right. Grannie, who is also really funny (but more sarcastic than silly), missed her calling.

Wholesome Family Fun

I played the board game Life with the kids on Thursday night.

At one point, Son #2 was driving around with his wife, who he named "Pink," and his two sons when he landed on the square announcing that he had a new grandchild. He was psyched.

Son #1 then asked, "Wait, how can you have a grandchild when your two boys have been stuck in the back seat this whole time?" followed by, "Oh no! Are you thinking what I'm thinking? About your wife?"

Good Lord. How can something so simple and otherwise family friendly go so horribly awry?

There's No I in Family

When we moved from NYC to VA, we bought a cheap mattress (of the penny-for-a-box-spring variety) for the guest bedroom mainly so a pregnant me wouldn't have to sleep on the floor for few weeks before my husband, and furniture, arrived. Poor Son #1 has been sleeping on it ever since he moved into his "big boy bed." So last week, we finally got him a real mattress so that the remainder of his childhood could be spent getting a proper night's sleep. Amazing difference.

In the constant, he-got-x-so-I-deserve-y logical argument that happens among kids, Son #2 has been dropping subtle hints that he wants a new mattress. Not exactly inexpensive, huh.

While the next story may sound unrelated at first, I'll bring it back, I promise.

A few weeks ago, we were hanging out with my girlfriends. One friend told a "There's no 'I' in team story" except that she had said to her brother, "There's no 'I' in family" to which he responded, "Uh yeah, Mary, there is." The kids thought that was hilarious and keep quoting it, building on it, making up new ones, etc.

The other night, Son #2 added this gem to the collection, "There's no "i" in team and I have no "f" in mattress."

MYOB

Last night, Son #2 coined a new phrase: MYObesity.

After I recovered from laughing, I said, "Wow, you are clever" to which he responded, "Yeah, I've got a lot of hook, line and sinkers." I see a future in writing captions for the Daily Show.

Do they hire nine year old boys?

My Retirement Castle Awaits

My oldest brother turned 50 in July. In preparation for the week long, bacchanalian festivities that never took place, my kids and I invested $0.35 in a beautiful glass mug at the Volunteers of America. It bears a lovely painting of a horse on one side along with lyrics and musical notes on the flip side for The Old Gray Mare (she ain't what she used to be).

We sadly never sent it to him because a) his gorgeous house outside of Chicago was on the market and we didn't think he would want more crap to pack but really because b) Son #2 took an immediately liking to this garish glass and didn't want to part with it.

He's very giving, I know.

The other night he told me he was going to keep it forever.

Son #2: Mom, you can borrow it in 50 years, if you want.
Son #1: No she can't! She'll be dead. Mom, you don't plan to live until you're 95, do you?
Son #2: Oh right. Yeah, and if you're not dead, we'll definitely have you in a nursing home by then.

Once again, feeling the love.

Office Porn

My boss (talking about one of our clients): I love him. If he wasn't happily married, I would run off with him.

Me: What about Joe? (Name changed to protect the innocent.) I thought he was the man!

My boss: Wow, him too! Did you see his gross margins?

Life be not Proud

A couple of years ago, my siblings and I began crafting our mother’s obituary. Even though she’s thankfully in perfect health (i.e., she’s feeling spry!), we thought we could get a leg up on this unfortunate event -- not to mention obtain her permission beforehand to take certain liberties with her public tribute, so to speak.

For whatever reason, I seem to have misplaced what was written; however, I’m pretty sure it started with something to the effect of “died suddenly due to a chocolate overdose” and continued with the line “leaves behind her lifelong passion of making fun of other people’s obituaries.” Since then, every once in a while, mom will call or email with a stolen line from a new obituary that she wants to co-opt for her own.

“Should we add ‘avid bowler’?” asks the woman who needs help lifting small objects.

“This one says 'spectacular mother of . . . ' ” she says, pausing for dramatic effect.

Last weekend, our local paper printed the mother lode of all obits which was (I believe) written firmly tongue in cheek by a local woman’s loving daughter and someone whom I wish I knew!

Sample lines from what may be one of the lengthiest obits ever written include:

• Predeceased by her parents, brother, 163 cats, 9 dogs, 4 horses, and numerous chickens.
  
• Ann's early years were touched by the Depression, and were pivotal in developing what she termed “Cliffy syndrome,” the exultant satisfaction derived from saving money. Ann relished trading thrift stories with other members of the family also afflicted.
  
• Ann loved growing things; be it plants, a savings account, or paperwork on her desk.
  
• Ann also enjoyed the music section; in her lifetime she blew out three sets of stereo speakers: on Polkas, Sousa marches, and Placido Domingo.
  
• There will be no service, as per her emphatic command not to drag those who loved her over emotional hot coals. (Note: my favorite of all and oddly enough my mom's wish, as well!)
  
• Donations in her memory may be made to Habitat for Cats or you can adopt one or more of the 31 houseplants and tender perennials she has in the basement.
  
• Mother Nature requests everyone living near my parents to step up their efforts for wildlife, as there will be significant slack to be taken up.

Per our mom's request, I'm pretty sure ours will be much, much shorter. But I take comfort in the fact that other families may be as willing to laugh in the face of tough subjects as ours!

Multi-tasking at its Finest

Son #1 picked up the phone a minute ago.

Son #1: "Oh hi Mama. We're just watching Phineas and Ferb."

Me: "Cool. What's daddy doing?"

Son #1: "He's watching it with us. But now he's pretending to snore so he doesn't have to talk to you."

Can You Hear Me Now?

Son #2: I can't waaaaait for my birthday party next weekend -- Village Sports is going to be sooooooooooo much fun.

Son #1: Duh. Birthday parties are always fun.

Son #2: But Village Sports is the best.

Son #1: Doesn't matter. Can you think of anywhere that wouldn't be fun if it was a party?

Son #2: Verizon Wireless.

Holy non sequitur Batman! But he is right . . .

Kid Riffs

On the way to VA, we stopped at a gas station in PA. As the pump did its thing, the hubby began to wash the windows.

Son #2: Hey, look at that guy cleaning our windshield. We should bring him to the wedding with us.

Son #1: That's not just some guy . . . that's our driver.

Not sure at what age they began riffing off one another but, at ages six and eight, it's definitely taken a turn for the professional. Maybe it's due to the fact that they watched a million episodes of The Simpsons on the way down along with Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

As a result, there was a lot of galloping during the wedding reception and myriad "what is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?" questions.

Sure beats the Teletubbies years.

Zinger!

"Well, you know, Sen. McCain, in the last debate and today, again, suggested that I don't understand. It's true. There are some things I don't understand.

I don't understand how we ended up invading a country that had nothing to do with 9/11 . . ."

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Funny!

Everybody Wants Some

Driving home from swimming off my brother-in-law's boat on Sunday, the boys and I had the following, painstaking conversation filled with the comic delivery of a six-year-old.

Me: Hey, you guys like this band. Do you know this song?

Son #1: No. Who is it?

Me: Guess.

Son #2: Poison? (No.)

Son #2: Motley Crew? (No.)

Son #2: Guns n' Roses? (No.)

Son #2: Poison? (No.) (Son #1: You just said that.)

Son #2: Motley Crew? (No.) (Son #1: You just said that, too.)

Son #2: Guns n' Roses? (No.) (We're laughing now.)

Son #1: Cheap Trick.

Me: No, but closer.

Son #2: Cheap Dick?

Me: Stop it with the dick jokes.

Son #1: Scorpions?

Me: I'll give you a hint -- it starts with the letter V.

Son #2: Vorpions?

Son #1: Van Halen!

Son #2: You mean Bad Halen.

Picky, picky. And although I'm not a huge rock n' roller, I think that song is great, no?